#and is made more from both of their acting choices

[crisiscutie]

punishment. (rebirth)

pairing: 🐍Yandere Sephiroth/Fem!Reader🕊️

You thought you could get away from your Yandere lover? Think again...

Content warning: NSFW. Noncon. Yandere Sephiroth. Physical/Emotional Abuse. Fear/Primal Play. Size Difference (yass)

A part of you knew that you wouldn't win. But you tried anyway. Maybe when you can finally be at peace with yourself if you actually fought this time. Whatever happens, you need to make sure that you won't go "home" with Sephiroth.

As soon as you saw him waiting in the dark woods behind the inn, you knew you had to act quickly. The one area that used to be your haven is now tainted with his presence. You just left him, but now it's time to show yourself that you've really moved past him...

You summoned your blade as you rushed at him. For a good moment, he played along, effortlessly parring your strikes. He felt an influx of new strength from you, but it was still not enough to overcome him. Your cute defiance only made his raging cock eager to take you. You're his precious darling, and you need a reminder of who you belong to.

Eventually, he grew weary of this "mock" fight. He closed his eyes and coolly jabbed his blade through your lower arms, thighs, and leg all at once, causing you to yelp and then crash to the ground. You tried to keep your tears at bay as the coppery taste of blood lingered in your mouth.

Don't worry. You still got spirit. You thought. But as Sephiroth's slit eyes flickered open like a snake, the doubt set in. He stared you down, studying the best ways to play with his food. His tall and menacing stature cast a shadow over your smaller frame. He just couldn't wait to have you. Your womb will be his.

The next few moments happened so quick you couldn't keep up with him. He lifted and shifted your body, straddling your legs to his hips. Wooziness washed over you, no doubt from the blood loss. Your vision had a slight blur to it from the throbbing pain that overwhelmed your senses and your arms hung limply at your sides. You just now registered that your panties were brushed to the side, his cock slowly pushing in and out of you. He was just barely inside you, and already your cunt was struggling to take him. His gloved hand cupped your cheek, relishing in your broken, submissive beauty.

As your unprepared cunt constricted around him, his thrusting quickened. He wanted to keep teasing you, but his primal need to claim your womb overrode it. Your body quivered with an odd yearning for his seed. If only your clit and cunt revulsed from him as your mind did.

You were full of love for him at one point. But when his temper and mind games became too much to bear, you had no choice but to flee. But of course, he found you here, at the very inn you both first met. He always said you're so easy to predict. You clenched your teeth when your abused cunt stretched further around him as he descended further. He was just too big for you to take. Not that he cared though. But as if something within him possessed him, he sent you crashing to the ground, almost crushing you under his weight afterward, while a cruel smirk formed on his lips.

Tears cascaded down your face. Your beaten body squirmed from the impact aftermath. He threw your legs over his shoulders as his cock battered your cervix without mercy, as his own satisfaction is paramount, not yours.

No. No. NO!

A sharp, stabbing pain radiated in your stomach as your cervix struggled to resist his brutal mating press. You could only pray to whatever fucked up higher power out there to end this. You didn't even recognize Sephiroth at this point. His heavy, lusty grunts and the savage rutting of your cunt felt more fitting for a rabid, feral animal than the suave mastermind he believed himself to be.

Your mouth opened and closed, but the only sound that escaped were pitiful whimpers. You don't have the means to take care of a child, especially not his. And you don't even want to think about what Sephiroth even is now ever since he became one with JENOVA. You don't want any trace of them in you. The very thought of them cumming inside of you was revulsive. Unfortunately, the sadistic bastard was more than capable of sensing your thoughts and emotions. Your revulsion only fueled his drive to make your cervix yield.

After enduring more and more of this intense mating press, your prayer seemed to be answered as you lost all sense of thought when your cunt juices sprayed and slathered his cock. Not too long after, He let out a soft groan, one that was finally appropriate for his suave persona when his sticky, JENOVA-corrupted spunk flooded your defenseless womb. But he didn't want to pull out of you yet. He was determined to have every single drop of that "repulsive" alien cum in you. His lips drew nearer to yours, just savoring the sight of your tearful eyes rolling back with a sickening smirk he had never worn before. The essence made from him and his goddess mother, whom you dared to reject, will now defile every part of you, and he couldn't be happier about it. He reached out for your stomach bulge, stroking his large cock through it.

His domination didn't even stop there. Even his seeds in your body relentlessly hunted and ravaged your lone egg for as long as they could, coiling around it like a snake until the last seed penetrated it. Twisted, happy delusions flickered in Sephiroth's mind afterwards, the future visions of how this seed of life will blossom into a beautiful product of love that he and you created together.

When he had finally come down from his orgasm and the rush of power, his touch became surprisingly gentle and affectionate toward you, but there was still a mocking air to his actions, of course. He cradled your petite body and healed it using his dark magic.

"Good girl~," he said and gently patted your head. You lost the privilege of becoming his true equal, so now, the special role of his pet is what you'd have to resign to. You're his property now. Though it's something you can't be ungrateful about. It was a special mercy that he would only extend to you.

As his dark magic slowly mended your wounds, you felt a brief sharp sting of pain, a reminder of the despair to come, resulting from your disobedience. From now on, as Sephiroth's pet, you will no longer be addressed by your name. Your identity will be completely under his control, tailored to his cruel likings. After the mending was complete, he set a course for "home". The environment around you two distorted as he summoned a dark purple portal. He princess carried you into it and glowered at your small, broken form one last time.

He can't wait to begin your training.

While in the process of posting old and new stuff to my AO3, I ended up rewriting most of an old fic. Hope you guys enjoyed this!

#sephiroth #ff7 sephiroth #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth x reader #yandere sephiroth #ff7 #final fantasy x reader #yandere reader insert #fem reader #reader insert #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere #yandere boyfriend #yandere male #reader smut #x reader #tw: abuse #tw: yandere #female reader #tw: noncon

[emmcarstairs]

The Ghoul and Lucy MacLean as Modern Orpheus and Eurydice: A Fallout Meta

(art by Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot)

We’ve all heard the Greek myth of Orpheus who ventures to the Underworld to bring his wife Eurydice back to life. It’s one of the greatest tragic love stories that has been retold and passed down to us in different forms of media.

Isn’t it interesting that Fallout begins with The End and ends with The Beginning? It refers to the bombs falling in the first episode, and the past being revealed in the last, but I believe it goes deeper than that. It’s a direct reflection of Lucy’s character journey.

Lucy’s journey begins with the shattering of her perfect world. It's the end of her life as she has known it. The event that triggers her descent (in her case, ascent) is the raiders’ attack. Which significantly happens at her wedding. Lucy is stabbed by her husband who had snuck into her Vault with deception. Similarly, Eurydice is bitten by a snake at her wedding with Orpheus, which kills her and sends her to the Underworld.

Interestingly enough, if we think of Norm's words as Lucy walks down the aisle, the Ghoul is coded as a possible husband for Lucy. And it's only after she goes to the Underworld/Wasteland that we are introduced to the Ghoul.

In a post-nuclear world, hell would be on the surface and heaven under the ground. The Ghoul emerges from the underground like Lucy as if he's coming after her. (It's funny that three men welcome him as if he's Orpheus at the gates of the Underworld and they're Cerberus.)

After the tragic wedding, Lucy resides in the Underworld. (An important note here is that while we learn that the Wasteland isn't dead, it is perceived as an Underworld by the Vault dwellers.) Throughout her journey, there is one person who, by happenstance, is always on her trail.

In the final episode titled The End, we find some thematic and visual similarities with The Beginning. Lucy is again betrayed by a person she considers family. Also, the passage of time in both episodes (midday-sunset-night) is clearly marked by the change of colors in the sky.

Two significant scenes for Lucy happen during the sunset. As a symbol, the sunset stands for transition or even death. The world is changed for the night. It's both an end and a new beginning. It's a meeting between the day and the night. In both these scenes, Lucy agrees to share her journey with another person.

If we rewind back to the Ghoul's entrance in the scene, we see him catching Hank by surprise with his words. In fact, the Ghoul speaks a lot and almost enthralls his enemies with his power of speech/acting. It's reminiscent of Orpheus' gift of music which helps him tame the beasts.

Here begins the deviation from the original story. In the myth, Eurydice has no agency. Orpheus ventures into the Underworld, begs for her soul, and takes her on the journey back. Some modern critics point out she'd already forgotten him and wouldn't want to return back to life.

The Ghoul offers Lucy a clear choice between her staying with the dead (in this moment, they are surrounded by Max's unconscious body and her mother's remains, as well as the soldiers' corpses) and risking that she dies herself. Or going with him to learn more about the world.

Another important element in the myth, is the backward glance. Hades lets Eurydice leave the Underworld on condition that Orpheus doesn't look back at her until they make it out. As they near the exit, Orpheus turns back and Eurydice vanishes back in the Underworld forever.

In this case, the backward glance isn't a condition. Yet, in this scene, the Ghoul and Lucy's gazes don't meet at all! He has his back turned to her and the one time he turns around, she isn't looking at him. It shows their vulnerability but also their newfound mutual trust.

What follows is the scene that inspired this whole meta. The night has fallen. The Ghoul climbs up from a ruined building's dark exit alone. After a moment, Lucy emerges too. They have made it! And the Ghoul still isn't looking back at her. He leads and knows she'll follow him.

Take a look at this bit from A. S. Kline's translation of Ovid's Metamorphoses, Book X, and look at the following frame:

"They took the upward path, through the still silence, steep and dark, shadowy with dense fog, drawing near to the threshold of the upper world."

A final note about Orpheus and Eurydice's names: Orpheus means "the darkness of the night", while Eurydice means "wide justice". Well, what can I say?

Looking back on my Lucy analysis, it's interesting that the final scene with them both emerging from underground marks the transition between Act 2 and Act 3, or Death (Transformation) and Emergence (Support). This would've been Eurydice's POV journey if Orpheus had succeeded.

#decided to post it here as well for safekeeping #vaultghoul #ghoulcy #cooper howard #lucy maclean #fallout prime #fallout meta

[cheynovak]

A Night to Remember  

Part 6 : Ready, Set... Go

Jensen Ackles x F/Reader Y/N       

Warnings: On screen chemistry, sexual tension, unfaithful, ...      

Side note: English isn’t my first language 

It's a slower chapter.

--  

Will the world believe that Jensen and Y/N were acting, will the world believe the picture was a publicity stunt? But more importantly, will they?     

Or is their tension towards each other, their ‘harmless’ flirting going to burst into flames? How much longer will they be able to keep their professional distance?   

-- 

Jensen woke up to the harsh Austin sunshine streaming through the blinds, his head pounding and his mouth dry as a desert. He groaned, rubbing his temples as the events of last night slowly began to filter through the fog of his hangover.

He reached for his phone, squinting at the screen. His heart sank as he saw the string of messages he had sent to Y/N. 

"Oh, God," he muttered, sitting up quickly and then immediately regretting it as a wave of dizziness hit him. He steadied himself, took a deep breath, and opened the messages. 

There they were, in all their drunken glory. Confessions of love, longing, and a heart laid bare. He cringed as he read through them, each word a reminder of the feelings he'd been trying to suppress for months. 

After her confession that she missed him he had send the last message. 

J: Y/N, I don't know what it is about you, but I can't stop thinking about you. I know it's wrong, but I can't help how I feel. 

He could almost hear his slurred speech in the texts, and he closed his eyes, trying to figure out what to do next. He immediately thought of Danneel, he never intended to hurt her. But Y/N... there was something about her that he can’t seem to ignore.  

His phone buzzed in his hand, startling him. It was a message from Y/N. 

Y/N: Hey, are you okay?

Y/N: You seemed pretty upset last night?  

Jensen's heart raced as he typed out a reply. 

J: Yeah, I'm okay. 

He stared at the screen, waiting for the three dots that indicated she was typing. Instead, his phone buzzed with an incoming call. He glanced at the caller ID and saw Y/N's name. His heart skipped a beat. 

With a deep breath, he swiped to answer. "Hello?" 

"Jensen?" her voice came through the line, soft and concerned. Hearing her voice after nearly a year did something to him. It was like a shock to his system, stirring emotions he'd tried so hard to bury. 

"Y/N," he breathed, leaning back against the pillows. "I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have..." 

"Are you really okay?" she interrupted, her voice cutting through his apology. "You don't sound okay." 

He closed his eyes, the sound of her voice both comforting and painful. "I'm... I don't know. I feel like I've messed everything up."

There was a pause on the other end. "Jensen, I was worried. I could tell something was off, even through the texts. Talk to me." 

He hesitated, the words caught in his throat. But the concern in her voice, the genuine care, broke down his defences. "It's been hard, Y/N. Things with Danneel are... complicated. And then there's you.” 

"Me?" she echoed, her tone a mix of confusion and curiosity. "Yeah, you. Last night, I said things I shouldn't have, but they were true. I can't stop thinking about you." 

Silence stretched between them, heavy and charged. Finally, she spoke. "Jensen, you can't. You're married. You can't just pretend that doesn't matter." 

"I know, I’ve been telling myself I made the right choice" he said, his voice pained. "But seeing your pictures, hearing your voice right now... it makes me wonder if I did... make the right choice." 

"Jensen," she sighed, her voice tinged with sadness. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his emotions in check. "Can we meet? I think we need to talk about this in person." 

Y/N was quiet for a second, he could hear her think. "Jensen, I don't know," Y/N said finally, her voice hesitant. "I'm not sure it's a good idea.” 

"Please, Y/N," Jensen pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice. "I know I've made a mess of things, but we need to talk about this face-to-face." "Jensen," she sighed, her tone filled with doubt. "I don't want to get hurt. And I don't want to hurt anyone else." 

"I understand," he replied quickly. "I do. But I can't leave things like this. Please, just give me a chance to explain myself properly. We owe it to each other to talk this through, don’t we?" 

Another pause. Jensen could almost hear her weighing her options. “I mean,” he continued, “You said in the ride to the airport you were ok, but you lied so, we need to be honest... don’t we?” He closed his eyes, willing her to say yes. 

"Alright," she said finally, her voice soft but resolute. "But this is just a conversation. Nothing more, no funny business.”  

"I promise," he said, relief flooding through him. "Where do we meet?”

"I'm in Dallas, filming a project," Y/N replied. "Can you come to the set?" 

Jensen hesitated, his mind racing. There would be a lot of people on set, people who could see them together and start asking questions. The last thing he wanted was to create more complications or rumors.

But the urgency in her voice, the need for this conversation to happen face-to-face, outweighed his concerns. "Jensen?" she prompted gently. "Can you come?" 

He took a deep breath, then nodded even though she couldn't see him. "Yeah. When should I be there?" 

"How soon can you get here?" she asked.  "I can leave now," he said, checking the time. "I'll be there in a couple of hours." 

"Okay," she said, relief evident in her voice. "I'll text you the address."

"Thank you, Y/N. I'll see you soon." 

After they hung up, Jensen sat for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He knew this wasn't going to be easy, but it was necessary. He needed to see her, to explain everything, and to figure out what they were going to do next. 

The drive to Dallas was filled with anticipation and nerves. As he approached the set, he felt a mixture of dread and excitement. He parked his car and followed the directions Y/N had texted him, trying to stay inconspicuous. 

He spotted her near one of the trailers, looking around as if searching for him. When their eyes met, he felt a jolt of electricity. She smiled, a tentative but genuine smile that made his heart ache. 

"Hi stranger," she greeted him softly as he approached. She glanced around, then motioned for him to follow her.  

They walked briskly to her trailer, and she opened the door, stepping inside and holding it open for him. Jensen followed her in, shutting the door behind him. The trailer was small but cozy, filled with the trappings of a temporary home away from home. 

"How are you doing?" he asked, genuinely concerned. "Since when have you been back on set? I thought you had a break in filming." 

She sighed, sitting down on the small couch and motioning for him to take a seat next to her. "I'm doing okay, I guess. I got a call from my agent, couldn’t say no.” He nodded, sitting down beside her. "It must be exiting, being back.”  

"It is," she admitted, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, nervous not knowing how to act.  

Jensen too felt a knot of nerves tighten in his stomach as he sat beside Y/N, unsure of how to act in the intimate confines of her trailer. She seemed to sense his discomfort and offered him a drink. 

"Do you want something to drink? I have water, coffee... maybe something stronger if you need it," she said with a small, nervous laugh. 

"Coffee would be great, thanks," he replied, his voice a little strained. She stood up and moved to the small kitchenette, her movements graceful despite the tension between them.  

As she waited for the coffee, she glanced back at him. The sight of him sitting there, looking at her with those soft, puppy-like eyes, made her heart flutter. The butterflies in her stomach were almost overwhelming, a mix of excitement and anxiety. 

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. It was like seeing him for the first time all over again, every feeling she had for him rushing back with a vengeance. His presence filled the small space, and she was acutely aware of every inch between them.  

She walked back to the couch, handing him the cup. Their fingers brushed as he took it from her, and a spark of electricity shot through her. She sat back down, closer this time, unable to keep the distance that was needed.  

"Thanks," he said softly, his eyes locked onto hers. 

Her heart raced, and she could feel a blush creeping up her cheeks. She tried to focus on the conversation, on the practicalities, but all she could think about was how much she had missed him, how much she still cared. 

Jensen took a sip of the coffee, his mind still swirling with emotions. He set the drink down on the small table in front of them and turned to face Y/N fully. 

"Why did you decide to answer my texts?" he asked, his voice soft and filled with curiosity. "After all this time, why now?" 

Y/N looked down, fidgeting with her hands for a moment before meeting his gaze. She took a deep breath, her heart pounding. "I couldn't hold back anymore. I guess missed you.” 

He watched her, his eyes gentle and full of empathy, "I thought maybe we could be friends," she continued, her voice trembling slightly. "I hoped that if we could just talk, we could figure out a way to stay in each other's lives without making things worse. “ 

“But when I got your messages last night... realising maybe that wasn’t the best plan.” She felt her eyes tearing. Unable to look at him, focussing on her hands folded on her lap.  

Jensen reached out, taking her hands in his, wiping the tear away. " I want to believe that we can be just friends.”  She looked into his eyes, feeling the intensity of his emotions mirrored in her own. "Can we, Jensen. I don't want to hurt anyone, especially not Danneel.”  

"I know," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of determination and sorrow. "And I don't want to hurt anyone either. But not having you in my life is clearly not an option.”  

She nodded, a small tear slipping down her cheek. He reached out and gently wiped it away, his touch sending shivers down her spine. "We'll be friends, and careful, and we'll be honest. That's all we can do." 

Their conversation flowed into a easy going get together.

Jensen asked about her travels mesmerised by her enthusiasm. Listening while she showed him pictures on her phone. But he couldn’t help to glance over at her now and then.  

As their conversation drew to an end, Jensen stood up, "I should probably get going," he said softly, reluctant to leave but knowing they both needed time to process everything. 

Y/N nodded, her emotions swirling, making it hard to find the right words. As he turned to leave, he surprised her by stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her in a warm, unexpected hug. She hesitated for a moment, then melted into his embrace, feeling the strength and comfort of his arms around her. 

When they finally pulled back, Y/N looked up at him, her heart racing. She took in the details of his face, so familiar and yet so striking in this intimate moment. The freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks, the perfect shade of green in his eyes that seemed to look right into her soul, and his plump lips that had whispered so many secrets to her. 

A blush crept up her cheeks, and she hoped he didn't notice. But the way he was looking at her, with a mix of tenderness and longing, made her think he did. 

"Take care, Y/N," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

"You too, Jensen," she replied, her voice trembling with emotion. 

He lingered for a moment, as if wanting to say more, waiting for her to do something, but instead, he gave her a small, reassuring smile and turned to leave. She watched him go, her heart aching and yet filled with a strange sense of hope. 

As the door closed behind him, Y/N let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She touched her cheek where his hand had wiped away her tear, feeling the lingering warmth of his touch.  

Jensen stood outside Y/N's trailer door, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. He couldn't shake the feeling of the warmth of her body against his, the way she had melted into his embrace. And in that moment, he had wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to taste those lips.  

He leaned against the trailer, running a hand through his hair as he replayed the scene in his mind. Her soulful eyes, filled with vulnerability and longing, had captured his heart in a way he couldn't explain.  

The soft blush on her cheeks and her lips... he could almost feel them against his own, soft and inviting, a perfect match to his own. But he had held back, knowing that would be wrong. They had too much to figure out.  

Taking a deep breath, he pushed away from the door and started to walk away. He knew he had to give her space, time to process everything they had talked about. But as he walked, his thoughts kept drifting back to her.  

In the meantime 

Y/N stood alone in her trailer, her heart racing and her mind spinning with thoughts of Jensen.. Every fiber of her being yearned to run after him, to kiss him, to hold him close and never let go.  

Her hand trembled as she reached out towards the door, aching to follow him, to tell him everything she was feeling. But she hesitated, knowing that rushing after him wouldn't solve anything. 

No, it would only complicate things. But as she stood there, the desire to be with him, to feel his lips against hers, grew stronger with every passing second. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to steady her breathing, trying to push away the urge.  

Finally, she opened her eyes, her resolve faltering. She couldn't ignore the longing in her heart any longer. With a determined sigh, she rushed towards the door, her footsteps echoing in the quiet trailer. 

When she reached the door, Jensen was already gone, disappearing into the distance. She stopped in her tracks, her heart sinking as she realized she had missed her chance. Tears welled up in her eyes.  

It was too late now. Jensen was to far away to follow him, and she was left standing alone, the weight of her regret heavy in her chest. She closed her eyes, silently cursing herself for not taking the leap, for letting fear hold her back from what she truly wanted. 

As Y/N stood outside her trailer, watching Jensen disappear into the distance, she couldn't stand watching him walking away, shoulders slumped in defeat, his back turned to her. Every fiber in her screamed at her to run after him but her mind said no. 

She still hesitated, torn between the fear of rejection and the overwhelming need to be with him. As she turned back towards her trailer, tears streaming down her cheeks, she caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye. 

She looked up to see Jensen, his gaze fixed on her, his expression unreadable. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and in that instant, she saw the pain and longing mirrored in his eyes, a reflection of her own.  

Jensen started to walk back towards her, his pace shifting from slow to almost running. Her heart leaped in her chest as he reached the steps of her trailer and bounded up them. 

His feet still on the last step, standing eye to eye. He cupped her cheek, caressing her skin, whipping away her tears.

Without a word, Jensen leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a passionate, desperate kiss. The world around them seemed to fade away as they lost themselves in each other, the weight of their emotions finally finding release in the warmth of their embrace.

Y/N wrapped her arms around Jensen, fingers going through his long hair, pulling him closer as their kiss deepened, the intensity of their longing pouring into every touch.  

As they finally pulled back from their passionate kiss, breathless and trembling, they gazed into each other's eyes, their souls laid bare in the raw intensity of the moment. It was a moment that transcended words. 

Before she could say anything, Jensen took another step forward, towering over her. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, and in that moment, all the walls between them crumbled away. 

Y/N couldn't help but let out a shaky laugh, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "So much for just being friends," she joked, her voice laced with both humor and emotion. 

Jensen chuckled softly, his own eyes shining. "Yeah, I guess we kind of skipped that part," he admitted, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I'm just grateful to have you in my life, even if it's just as a friend" Y/N said softly, her voice filled with sincerity.

Giving him the space to back down if he wanted to. 

He tightened his embrace, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Me too," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "But I would rather kiss you." 

With that, he leaned back in, his lips finding hers once again in a passionate embrace. They stumbled backwards, the door closing behind them with a soft click, forgotten in the heat of the moment. 

Their kisses grew more urgent, hands roaming over each other's bodies as they lost themselves in the intoxicating rush of desire. But just as things began to escalate, Y/N pulled back, her breath coming in ragged gasps. 

"Jensen," she said softly, her voice trembling with emotion while his lips travelled to her neck. "We need to slow down. I don't want to rush into anything." 

He looked at her, his eyes filled with understanding. "I'm sorry," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I just got carried away, I'm sorry." She smiled up at him, her heart filled with gratitude.   

But before they could say anything else, there was a knock on the door, breaking the momentary spell they were under.

"Y/N we're ready for your scene."

She sighed, reluctantly pulling away from Jensen's embrace. 

"I guess I need to go back to set," she said, her voice tinged with regret. Jensen nodded, his hand lingering on her cheek. “Call me when your done for today?”  

Later that day.  

As the day drew to a close and the set began to quiet down, she found herself reaching for her phone, her fingers trembling with anticipation as she dialled Jensen's number.  

It rang once, twice, before he picked up, he excuses himself and walked outside to the garden.  "Hey," he said softly, his tone filled with warmth. "How was the rest of your day?" 

Y/N smiled, feeling a rush of warmth flood through her at the sound of his voice. "It was okay," she replied, her voice tinged with excitement. "But it's better now that I'm talking to you." 

Jensen chuckled softly, the sound sending shivers down her spine. "I feel the same way," he admitted. "I've been thinking about you all day."  

Danneel watched him from inside the cozy warmth of their home, a nagging feeling tugging at her heart. He never walked away when having a phone call. 

She watched him pace back and forth, his voice low and hushed as he spoke into the phone. Her brow furrowed with concern as she tried to catch fragments of his conversation, but his words were muffled by the distance between them. 

A wave of uncertainty washed over her as she watched him, her mind racing with questions. What was he talking about? Who was he talking to? And why did she feel like he was keeping something from her? 

----

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[biblioflyer]

Xavier's dream is doomed, but there is no alternative.

The meta demands ever more elaborate allegories for every terrible thing humans have done to one another, but hard men making hard choices also inevitably make everything worse too.

This is part 1 of a 5 part series about pessimism in the world of X-Men.

X-Men ‘97 and The Animated Series more broadly have spent quite a bit of time establishing a few core conceits:

Xavier’s lofty rhetoric can win small, fleeting victories that do damage control in the near term such as repeatedly persuading government officials to give the X-Men time to handle a situation in a more surgical way.

Yet, significant gains like establishing an enclave for Mutants by Mutants on Genosha are always subject to rollback, usually in the form of a violent pogrom.

Sapiens violence sparks Mutatis retaliation, which more often than not confirms Sapiens fears about the dangers posed by Mutants.

Thus, Xavier is always made to look like a fanatic willing to sell Mutant lives cheap to de-escalate fearful Sapiens only for the concessions he wins to be meager and fleeting. There is always another crisis that requires the blood of his students to buy off a more extreme and indiscriminate reaction by human forces.

Yet at the same time, acts of separatism and retaliation by Magneto et al. pour jet fuel on the cycle of preemptive violence that leads to retaliatory violence that leads to more retaliatory violence.

This creates a doom loop where progress exists only to be rolled back and, if left uninterrupted, leads to functional mutual annihilation: Bastion attempts to kill or enslave all mutants, Magneto destroys the capacity for terrestrial civilization to exist beyond the steam engine. Both Magneto and Humanity have also had nuclear arsenals pointed at one another.

Every future we see appears to be dystopian. The X-Men will not live to see a better world and their best efforts largely ensure Mutants don’t go extinct entirely. No matter what the X-Men do, the choice seems to be between extermination or enslavement by Humans or Sentinels, or conquest by Apocalypse.

Noteworthy though is that in both Bishop and Cable’s futures, it is the X-Men who are remembered and celebrated, not Magneto’s Brotherhood. Martyrdom is a poor reward for dogged virtuousness in the face of hostility from both hateful Humans and justifiably angry Mutants, but it seems to be the only way the worst futures are avoided.

My growing concern now that X-Men is having a moment in the spotlight of fandom discourse is that the setting is accidentally or intentionally selling doomer nihilism cosplaying as realism or critical theory. 

Make no mistake, I think X-Men ‘97 is the smartest Marvel offering since Captain America: Civil War brought us the debates over the Sokovia Accords. However, people really do need to be mindful of the hard wired setting conceits that ensure that the X-Men’s world is one in which there is an unhappy median that wobbles back and forth from slightly better to a lot worse and this itself is not (I hope) the actual message of the setting.

Part 2 will discuss the role of allegory in X-Men and fiction more broadly as it pertains to civil rights struggles and identity based conflict.

#x men the animated series #x men 97 #x men #charles xavier #magneto #Mutants #erik lehnsherr

[oreolemur]

Sleeping Beauty Pt2

Link to Pt1 https://www.tumblr.com/oreolemur/750871596148883456/sleeping-beauty-megumi-fushiguro-fanfic?source=share

“Please don’t be mad at me, doll”, you pouted, watching Megumi fight his restraints. “I’m doing this because I love you”. You had the man strapped down to a chair. You left him with nothing but his boxers on. “Who are you?”, he asked, not looking too happy. You walked over to him, cupping his face. “Someone who’s going to take really good care of you”, you blushed. He looked at you in anger. “Why am I here?”. You sat across from him on the couch, staring at him with heart eyes. “Because I’m obsessed with you”, you replied. “I love everything about you”. Your voice squealed, thinking about that day. “I remember when you saved me from that evil curse. Ever since then…I made it my mission to track you down”. Megumi struggled more, getting even more angry. “Untie me”, he demanded.  Tilting your head, you admired him. “Why? So you can fight me and escape?”. 

You got up, walking over to him. “That’s not gonna happen”. You straddled his lap, taking a seat. The chair creaked as it held the both of you. You looked Megumi in the eyes, taking in all his beautiful features. “I love you so much”, you said, kissing his cheek. He grunted, moving his face away from you. “You’re disgusting”, he insulted. Your heart ached in pain, hearing him call you that. “Why are you so mean to me, doll?”, you questioned. You grabbed the man’s face, forcing him to look at you. “I’ve been nothing but sweet”. You stared into his eyes, seeing your reflection. “Untie me now…or else”, Megumi warned. It broke your heart to see your lover being so defiant. Your grip tightened around his chin. “Or else what?”, you said. “What are you going to do to me?”. It was clear to him that you got excited over that. “I would love to have your hands on me”. 

Moving his head to the side, you stared at his exposed neck. “You have such beautiful skin, Meg”. You licked his flesh, giving it slow sloppy kisses. Megumi’s face flushed red. “Stop that”, he said. You grind your hips on his lap, feeling his halfway hardened cock. Your nightgown slightly rose up, making you feel the cold breeze on your bare ass. “Mmph”, you moaned. Drool leaked down Megumi’s neck, wettening his collarbone. You bruised his pale skin, leaving pinkish red marks on him. Leaning up, you kissed his cheek as you ran your hands down his body. “Aww, you’re blushing”, you giggled. The man side-eyed you as he looked away. “Do you want more?”, you asked, rubbing his half hard half soft cock over his pants. You grabbed his face again, demanding his attention. “I asked you a question”. 

He looked at you annoyed. “Does it look like I want this?”, he gritted. You squint your eyes, becoming irritated. “Fine”, you got off him, heading into the living room. On the coffee table there was a small box. You picked it up, approaching Megumi. “Since you want to be mean…”, you paused, opening it. “I’ll have to do this the hard way”. You took out a syringe, filling it up with a knock out drug. “Put that in me and I’ll kill you”, he threatened. You ignored him, walking over. You sat on his lap once more. “I don’t have to use this, you know”. The two of you stared at each other. “But…if you’re going to act like a brat…I have no other choice”, you forced his head to the side, sticking the needle in his neck. “Shit”, Megumi seethed. You took out the syringe, licking the blood that leaked from the puncture wound. “Sleep, my love”, you whispered into his ear.  He squirmed around, slowly passing out. “Sweet dreams”. 

❤~Time Skip~❤

“You must like it when I fuck you unconscious”, you smiled, taking off your clothes. You got on top of Megumi, who was already stripped from his underwear. “It’s just like our first night together”. Your hands rubbed his body, feeling how toned his figure is. “You’re mine…and no one can have you but me”. You leaned into his face, licking his cheek. “So soft and delicate”. Your hand reached for his scalp, pulling his hair. You stared at him with a serious expression. “You will learn to love me”. Letting go, you kissed his lips. You made out with the man, savoring his taste. Your hand sneakingly went down to his cock, gently stroking it. “Get hard for me, baby”. You felt his dick slowly get hard. It stood up stiff in your hand, slightly twitching. 

As you continued to jerk him off, you made your way down his body. Your face soon came in contact with his cock. You smiled at it. “Your cock is so pretty”, you said, kissing the pink tip, which leaked precum. You licked circles around it, making Megumi jump. “Sensitive, huh?”. You slowly sucked him in, putting every inch into your mouth. “God he tastes so good”, you blushed. You deepthroated him, going all the way down to his pelvis. From there, you made your way back up to his tip, sucking him hard. “Mm”, you moaned. Your lips were wrapped around his cock tightly, almost tiring your mouth out. Megumi’s body twitched, making small movements with his fingers and toes. You sucked him up some more,soon taking him out. *Pop*. You started to jerk him off, feeling his cock pulsate. “I can tell you’re about to cum”, you smiled.

Megumi moaned and began to breathe heavily. You tighten your hand around his dick, pumping him faster. “Be a good doll, Meg”, you giggled. Your hand moved faster and faster, until he ultimately came. He spurted loads, getting some on your face. “I’m so proud of you, doll”. You had fun licking him clean. “Your cum tastes so good”. You licked him some more, stopping briefly. Megumi started to make more noises, signaling you that he was about to wake up. “Oh dear”, you said, getting off him. You walked to your dresser, picking up another syringe. “One more dose wouldn’t hurt”. You approached the man, sticking the needle in his neck. His movements stopped. “That’s it honey. Sleep”. You throw the object to the side as you straddle Megumi once more. Your cunt hovered above his hardened cock, rubbing yourself against him. “I can’t have you waking up just yet”, you giggled. “After all...you are my sleeping beauty”.

#tw noncon #dark writing #jjk smut #jujustsu kaisen smut #megumi x reader #jjk megumi #yandere reader #female yandere #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen

[nrilliree]

Sanctimonius sermons about how Daemon and Rhaenyra are 'inherently abusive' because he is older and it's an incestuous relationship which is why the writers have to show it fall flat on their faces when you notice how the show has chosen to depict Corlys and his relationship with Rhaenys.

Certain facts about Corlys in canon:

Older than Rhaenys' father Aemon

Is related to Rhaenys because of the Velaryons and the Targaryens' generational intermarriages so yayyy more incest

Made no secret about his designs on the throne

Would rather have his bastards inherit Driftmark before his granddaughters

Sired the said bastards on a girl younger than his children

We are given no details about the nature of his relationship with Marilda so speculation is all that can be done. For her sake, I hope it was based in mutual attraction because he clearly had the power to coerce her.

It is both hilarious and insanely hypocritical when the writers and fans alike try to preach and defend their abysmal choices about Daemon to the point of including events that were never present in the books when most of Corlys' scenes on the show have been framed in positive light and have humanized him. Even his action of trying to marry his 12 year old daughter to Viserys got swept under the rug because they can't emphasize enough on how much he loves his wife. It has to be noted that the canonical age difference between him and Rhaenys was erased on the show because they, for whatever reason, aged her up.

Now, this is not me hating on Corlys. He is a flawed but interesting character. But the double standards in the show's writing makes me wonder whether our most esteemed writers ever read the books or did they obtain most their information from Green infested fandom spaces on Reddit. The less said about their apologists, the better.

"Yeah, we are making stuff about Daemon that wasn't in the books because y'all need to see for yourselves how abusive he is and not romanticize him like that stupid girl Rhaenyra who, we made sure, learned her lesson on the show. What do y'all even see in him? He isn't Han Solo or Paul Rudd.

But, hey look at how much Corlys loves his wife? Isn't he a great husband? So what if he is a much older relative and cheated? Look at our uwu Aegon who was never taught the meaning of consent. Look at our precious Alicent who groomed her daughter from a young age to be a broodmare for her rapist son has toiled in the service of men her entire life."

Eve and Steve have a seven-year age difference between them, so undeniably the age difference between them in the series is much, much smaller than in the book, where it was probably over twenty years. I don't know, the creators wanted to not only lower Alicent's age and raise Viserys' age, but also reduce the age difference between Rhaenys and Corlys to make Alicent look like an even bigger THE victim of marriage?

In the book, Rhaenys married Corlys when she was sixteen, and Marilda was also sixteen when Corlys got her pregnant, so he undeniably has a thing for girls who are much younger than him. Which Daemon is accused of, even though Laena in the book was 23 on the day she married him, and Rhaenyra was even older.

This is very strange to me and I only explain it by the fact that Corlys has a reduced tariff with TG stans and they don't accuse him of his sins (just like they don't do it when it comes to Aegon, Aemond, Criston or anyone wearing the "right" color). , because according to them, Corlys betrayed Rhaenyra and joined the TG. We know it's not true because he only protected his sons' lives and then acted against Aegon II and crowned Aegon III, but for TG stans the only thing that matters is that they can point the finger and shout "ha, he betrayed Rhaenyra".

#house of the dragon #team black #anti team green #pro team black #anti team green stans

[ladysophiebeckett]

having watched betty finding out the truth five different times fm different versions and skim watching them at different times, it's interesting to see the acting\directing styles.

you can tell when there's appreciation for the original work and when there's apprehension.

'jassi jaissi koi nahin' (india) uses the same dramatic music ysblf used. or it uses some cues but in a different note. 'not born beautiful' (russia) is, to this day, the most faithful adaptation. there's appreciation in accepting the story as is and not making any outrageous changes. 'yo soy bea' (spain) makes a lot of changes but those changes come from the production's knowledge that they're not gonna be as iconic as the original--they know they're not gonna hit the same marks. So a lot of the narrative decisions come down to doing the opposite of what the original did. It's apprehensive in that way, but they commit to those narrative choices and you accept it as an audience member.

the mexican adaptation is rebellious. it's wants to be a comedy. it wants to be dramatic. there is no rhyme or reason to its editing. it wants so badly to one up the original it's based on, not understanding that the original was made with a lot personal touches. the other adaptations mentioned above all have personal touches that ground its audience and you believe everything that's happening.

i could go on forever about overall directing styles of the same thing, but i really want to talk about is The Scene--Betty Finds Out The Truth.

in ysblf, Betty takes her time reading the letter and reacting to it. from a slight happiness bc she sees the gifts and that gradual change as she's reading the letter and you see her entire world fall apart. but it happens slowly. there's an incredulousness to it bc she's been living out a dream and we audience have known the entire time that it was based on a lie. her tears are silent, she's in shock. we suffer with her bc we have to see her process it.

Katya (NBB) and Jassi (JJKN) have similar reactions despite editing styles of these programs being different. both go from ecstatic to slow dread. it takes them time to believe and process what's happening bc its supposed to be a shock to their system.

For Bea (YSB) its completely different bc she doesn't find out fm a letter and is therefore exempt from this, however it should be noted that she goes catatonic and becomes ill at the shock of it all.

Moving on, Lety (lfmb), tho the circumstances of how she finds out are...different (a psychic tells her to find the letter)--her reaction to it is too much, too soon. I'm not saying Angelica Vale is a bad actress bc she's not. But her acting choices plus the direction she received, is less about Lety the character and more selling Vale as a dramatic actress.

It feels like there's a secret motive to it.

Because why does Lety immediately believe the letter? And then starts crying like she's gonna die? There's no emotional build up. Even the staging of it feels unnatural. Lety goes from standing, sobbing to sitting on the floor in front of Fernando's desk to standing up again and going back the chair. All the while violently crying, shaking, yelling. And no one hears this?

It's sad, but we don't see Lety's world collapse the way we see it in other versions. It's like Lety already suspected it and the letter confirms it. She's been ready to cry and scream about it. And this is after the honeymoon filler with Fernando ends. She was happy that morning. The revelation should have confused her.

Not that this didn't pay off, Vale won an award for her work on this. But these creative choices, in hindsight, look like they're serving someone else and not the story you're trying to tell. TBH, a lot of the creative decisions that are made in Lfmb, often feel like Lety The Character, is the one being sacrificed. When it's supposed to be her story.

I know it seems like I'm getting on lfmb's case again, and I am, but it comes from a place of frustration bc every time I analyze something about it, I realize how self serving it is to the people involved in it's production and how the actual story they're adapting gets secondary importance.

There are great scenes in lfmb that hit, but they're overshadowed by everyone and everything else. Lety finding out the truth should have been about Lety, not Angelica Vale's ability to cry on cue.

#lfmb #ysblf #not born beautiful #jassi jaissi koi nahin #rosy ocampo is never gonna read this post yes i know but im still allowed to express my distaste

[shedontlovehuhself]

I see hellers(aka Dean/Jensen stans) are on their bullshit once again.

I'm confused. First they all call cas fruity and say he's so gay for always staring at Dean or rebelled heaven for Dean. Mocked his gay little sit. And stay in the qrts of hourly deancas posts saying just how gay Cas behavior is they aren't shocked said i love you all the times he did. (and i mean everyone in that tweet thread).

Now it's Cas behavior really can be seen as "angel who doesn't know how to human" and not really gay. Eye....???

I get it. All of the people in that thread are Jensen stans first and foremost and so in true Jensen stan form they resort to minimizing others in order to make him(in this case his character Dean) as the one who actually did everything. It's what they do best when insecure. Like I'm sorry the one fan from The Boys started watching and now loves Cas(the gay angel he knew about before watching spn) and comments on his gay little behavior towards Dean because it's obvious. And now they gotta resort to making whatever that tweet above is. Seeing that tweet above makes me think of all the straight spn truthers trying to erase Castiel's queerness and saying he's a confused angel who doesn't understand humans. Cause that's what they are saying. News flash! The angel is queer and It wasn't subtle. Also his actor didn't tweet "you're not crazy" for them to be that dense on main.

#1st they say cas is super gay look at how he acts towards dean #now they say all the destiel in spn is all from dean's behavior and cas just behave like an angel #idk he got a hard on from watching the puzza man #took mick davies number quickly #was all about hannah when she was in a male body #and a ahit ton of other things done outside of dean where we know the angel is queer #also gonna say what a friend told me. that destiel is born from the chemistry of BOTH the actors #and is made more from both of their acting choices #but only ONE of them worked with the bobo to ensure his character be and say his queerness explicitly with an i love you to dean #while the other had to be asked permission #like why is permission needed to film the homo declaration if per the stans your character is the reason for all of it? #anyways can jensen stans stop doing that minimizing others thing yall always do #misha collins #castiel #destiel #jensen #supernatural #spn

[krotiation]

I can’t stop thinking about the parallels between Angel and Rhys

Not only were both of them pretty damn young, Rhys being closer to Angel’s age than Jack’s, but they also used to seek some type of validation from Jack – Angel wanting her father’s love and attention and Rhys wanting his hero’s approval and praise

And Jack used that among other reasons to control them, starting off with promises to have their backs and telling them they’re a “team”

Before he isolated them, continuing to keep Angel locked up (not just “for her own safety” but also for everyone else’s, essentially telling her she’s a danger and that if anything were to happen it would be her and Jack’s fault) and convincing Rhys he couldn’t trust Fiona and co unless he wanted to end up dead or screwed over

Until they eventually tried to break free from Jack which he responded to by attempting to guilt trip them

Both of them also just went through a lot of pain just to get away from Jack; Angel literally asked you to help her commit suicide, screaming in agony as you destroyed the injectors to kill her. Rhys ripped all his cybernetics out, clearly in pain and almost dying from blood loss afterwards

And Jack’s reaction to all of this was very similar as well. He literally pleads with them to stop yet still not acknowledging his own wrongs, telling Angel that he will forgive her, once again deflecting all accountability onto her

In Rhys' case Jack begs for his life which is really interesting because when he is about to die in bl2 he doesn’t. Instead he goes on a long, angry rant spitting insults and yelling until you kill him

Jack is naturally manipulative, sure, but the way he manipulates his enemies vs the people close to him is so different and I feel like Angel and Rhys being treated similarly despite having very different relationships with him shows that 1) yes, Jack actually did care for Rhys somewhat and he really did consider his rejection a deep betrayal and 2) history always repeated itself for Jack and he never wanted to acknowledge it. Instead, he tried to reel them back into his control by making them out to be the bad guys

Basically, I’m insane and I would give anything to see Rhys and Angel interact and talk about their experiences with Jack. Also, they both have chair related trauma. Chair-ed trauma, if you will

#ive been wanting to make a post about this for soooooo long #but im glad i didnt until now because i didnt even think about the different ways jack acted during both his death scenes until today #which yeah you can make the argument that he was huffing and puffing in bl2 because he knew he was gonna die no matter what #whereas with rhys he felt like he had a chance (which yeah technically he did since its a whole choice and whatnot) #but still. its just very interesting and i WILL overanalyze it #borderlands #borderlands 2 #tales from the borderlands #handsome jack #angel the siren #rhys strongfork #txt #there are probably more comparisons to be made but this post is long enough kjsdghjdkhg

[coquelicoq]

what i love about the Famous Actor Natori Shuuichi of it all is that...it's not just that he's famous and therefore widely recognizable wherever he goes. like yes that is very funny because he was an exorcist before he became a famous actor, which means he CHOSE, on purpose, a day job that would make it harder to hide his double life/secret identity from the hordes of his adoring public, but it's more than that. it's not just that he's famous, it's that he's famous specifically for being an ACTOR, aka a person whose job it is to dissimulate, to make believe, to inhabit roles and emotions other than his own. like he decided he was going to become as visible as possible (which again was literally not necessary! he could have gone into any other career for his day job!!) but in such a way that everyone would see him but no one would see him - they would just see his various made-up personas, including the Famous Actor Natori Shuuichi persona. i can't decide if he's a genius or if he just made so many absurd decisions that they canceled each other out and circled back around to working out. he's either playing 9-dimensional chess or he's eating the pieces. too soon to say.

#the other thing i love about it is that in a very real sense it's his actor day job that is his alter ego #being an exorcist is his normie job. he's just a famous celebrity on the side #which isn't that uncommon in secret identity setups but it's still very funny #natsume's book of friends #natsume yuujinchou #natori shuuichi #natsuyuu meta #my posts #f #i think probably the actual answer is that acting was a very natural career choice because he already masks so extensively #both to hide that he can see things other people can't (and that youkai exist and that he exorcises them) #and to hide what he's really feeling so that no one can use it against him #so if it's already something he has to do & he's good at it...why not have someone tell him exactly how to do it & get paid for it? #and the other part of the answer is that most ppl don't go into acting assuming they'll get famous. the fame was a side effect #so each decision as it was being made probably made perfect sense. but put them all together #and you have this hilarious assortment of elements that seem to directly contradict each other #okay also i would be remiss if i didn't mention the other possible answer which is that the attention came first and was unavoidable #and the acting developed from the need to protect himself from the attention that he was going to be attracting no matter what he did #because he's so beautiful. and (in the exorcist world specifically) because he's the last of the natori #the more i talk about it the more i'm like no becoming a famous actor was the only path that made any sense for him lol #1) he's gonna be watched no matter what bc he's him -> gotta figure out how to hide his secrets -> learn to act as self-defense #or 2) he's got secrets -> he's gotten a lot of practice hiding them -> hey you could make a career out of this! #all roads lead to actor natori shuuichi. and since he's beautiful...all roads lead to FAMOUS actor natori shuuichi #i love it when i ramble so much in the tags that i end up contradicting my own post lol #he's neither thinking ten steps ahead nor is he irrational. he's simply making sensible individual decisions #that follow logically from what is available to him and what his priorities are

[kaurwreck]

fav chuuya trivia: he’s a lightweight and a wine collector. combine it with the fact that poisons a weakness for him, ability wise, and too much alcohol is in fact poison. he chooses that often.

bonus: combine that with the fact that dazai’s coming of age came with going to a bar, and i don’t know what that means

anon cause shy

Untitled I. My dear, even though you treat me kindly, I'm stubborn. After we parted last night, I went drinking and berated some weakling. This morning, Waking up, I remember your kindness And sadly reflect on my vile behavior. And now, I, a total fraud, will here confess that, without shame, Stripped of all dignity, and therefore lacking honesty— I was urged on by my own illusions, raving mad. [...] III. In this world we sadly live in like this, your heart— Don't let it grow stubborn my dear Because I hope for intimacy with you Your heart— don't let it grow stubborn my dear.

[Excerpted from Poems of the Goat, written by Chuuya Nakahara, translated by Ry Beville]

#bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bungo stray dogs #japanese poetry #thank you for sharing!! #no need to explain anon to me #you are entitled to your mysteries and boundaries and bashfulness #i have anon on because i feel comfy and fine with people engaging however feels most comfortable to them #also i'm going to avoid commenting on what y'all share because i'm already sharing in return by offering up chuuya poetry that strikes me #and because i don't want anyone to think that a lack of a more specific response isn't because i didn't go !!!!! at what they shared #(this exercise is designed so I can also work throughout the day while getting chuuya enrichment) #BUT #alcohol IS poison and that's something I've thought about a lot in my framing of it for myself and generally #but I've never connected it with chuuya's vulnerability to poison and how it is such an equalizer #and how when shirase wanted to ground him and render him someone shirase felt he could face both honestly and to fight he poisoned him #i wonder if alcohol makes chuuya feel a teeny bit more visceral and real and like a person in a body #rather than an experiment or a leader or an act of violence or the salve to someone's loneliness or the vessel of a storm #or someone who wants terribly to lead and protect but is so unsure of himself because of how much he understands the gravity of that role #which isn't to say i think he doesn't want to be a leader and doesn't want to be an act of violence or a salve or a liberated ex-experiment #all of these things and the choices he's made for and because of and despite these things are inextricable from who he is #but every so often #it's nice just to be flesh and electricity

[merrysithmas]

so i am reading The Book of Sith and it is really hitting me how STRONG Anakin was to overcome literally thousands of years of Sith consolidation of power and END it. he ended the Sith 🤯 all of the powerful Sith lords that came before him, all of the endless century-long brutal wars between the Sith and Jedi, the unrest in the galaxy -- the Force, through torment, put Anakin in a position to end it. And he did.

through the book we learn that the Sith have been placing sleeper agents in Jedi & Republic society for thousands of years - calling them forth to upend peace when least expected (such as Dooku, a high ranking person in Serenno culture). and i fully believe that's what the Force did in return, finally, with Anakin as Vader. Anakin in Vader was the Force's sleeper agent.

The Force had to create and torment someone so good that he would fall because of his weakness (LOVE) and yet be strong enough to withstand 20 years of guilt and torture on the Dark Side, so strong that he'd return to the Light and end the Sith from within, as one of them.

the Force created Anakin to fall. he was the Chosen One, the damned one, the demi god, the unlucky one, the hated one -- but the hero. it is why he found peace as a force ghost. a tragic hero.

Like!!! Vader, personally, after killing his Master, had the ability to instantly absorb ALL of Sidious' power - ten thousand years of malignant potent strength. Vader would be literally all-powerful...

and he rejected it 🥹😭😫

he outright rejected it for Luke, for Leia. he rejected it for love. he wasn't even tempted after Sidious died! he rejected the entire Sith lineage since Darth Bane, tore it to shreds and let it wither and die just so he could look at his son with "his own eyes". Luke (& Leia) - the whole reason he began the first assured steps to his fall in the first place. A desperation to save his children & padme.

he was so strong in the Light that he didn't claim the dark throne. but he not only didn't claim it - he destroyed it. for his children and everyone else in the galaxy. so that they might never know the pain and torture he endured on the Dark Side as Sidious' slave.

the book (which is, granted, "Legends") makes it clear under the Rule of Two that the apprentice never gets any Sith power. they are starved of it, servants of it, and slaves. the Sith Master keeps all of the dark power and the apprentice has nothing, is nothing. is treated as meat and Palpatine notes they are "easily replaceable when their usefulness runs out".

Anakin was the easiest target for him and he was manipulated since he was 9 years old. no mother to protect him. Sidious threw away Maul, Tryanus, and Vader of course was next.

but in the end he overcame all that: the Force's tragic destiny for him via the prophecy, Palpatine's evil manipulation of him as a small child, the lure of a hundred generations of Sith power, the evil he was conducted to commit under the duress of Palpatine to save his family (and the boundless guilt he felt for it), and the ultimate rank of a potential rule as Emperor Vader.

he rejected it all the second he got another chance - horrified at his fall the first time, bearing the burden of the prophecy (Anakin the Betrayer), taking responsibility for the acts he commited even though he was a demi god who was destined and thus never had any real free will.

he was a slave his entire life - born & died as one. he was only ever free in death.

and he was free in death because the moment he finally had a true choice of his own - after he fulfilled the Prophecy and ended the Sith - he chose to end the Sith, and let peace prevail.

at his truest form, finally given his own agency, he chose the Light.

anakin is a hero.

#anakin skywalker #sob #when ppl say he was -pure evil- im like ok are we seeing the same source material #being PURE EVIL and commiting evil are two diff things #he definitely commited evil acts as both anakin & vader #(and he had an ego and alter ego on top of it) #(like i think of the dark side as deluding such as a substance abuse - he isnt REALLY vader but vader is there in control regardless) #(and he is helpless to this alter ego as his prime ego is not strong enough) #but anyway #he commited evil but he wasnt evil at his soul - that is the whole point of hope in star wars and the whole point of luke skywalker #a person who believes in good #that anyone even someone who has made the worst mistakes (even if he was destined to!) can be saved with understanding and compassion #and it is only through compassion ultimately that we can make the world better - even if at times there us no choice but to act in defense #compassion must always prevail #and by 'saved' i mean can know himself as more than his mistakes and capable of what one wills despite the past #that there is always hope someone might come back from the dark #and to not damn this possibility with hate and scorn #even if we cant MAKE it happen it is possible #and in anakin's case he had a prophecy and his REAL moment of choice was when it was fulfilled #and he chose to do good #and he CHOSE IT BECAUSE LUKE WAS THERE TO BELIEVE HE COULD AND TO LOVE AND HELP HIM AND SHOW HIM IT WAS POSSIBLE #ugh my soul #it was possible for him to choose good

[slvttyplum]

having sex with toji made you shy, to the point where you were covering up your face and moans, trying not to embarrass yourself, and clenching up from his every touch. toji didn't like that; he liked when you got out of control, where you were clinging onto him and telling him what pace to go, how to do something, and where to touch you, your loud moans slipping through the cracks of your bedroom door.

he wanted that and more. he didn't want you to cover your beautiful face and try to suppress your moans; it made him feel weird, like he was having sex with the mattress beneath him. he wanted you to be loud and tell him what to do, so in order for you to do that, he would put you on top so that you had no choice but to take control and not cover up your face. 

as much as he wanted to take control and slam his hips into you and push into your sweet spot to the point you're clinging and squirting on his dick, he just couldn't bear to be shy while he was beating your pussy in; it wasn't ideal for him, so this is all he could do: have you take control.

it obviously worked because once your hips got rolling and your hands were sat on top of his chest, there was no stopping you; all you needed was a little bit of motivation and his dick poking your sweet spot repeatedly for you to finally give up the shy girl act.

he knew that once you got on top, there was no stopping you, your ass bouncing on top of him while you moaned in his ear and blabbered in his ear about how good you felt. you would get so high on pleasure that drool was falling out, and you were saying all kinds of shit and didn't recall anything the next day. 

he saw the potential you had whenever you were on top of him, bouncing on his dick with no plans of stopping, so he wanted you to keep going so that you wouldn't be covering up your face while he dug you out. taking your hands and putting them above you as he kissed you, his tongue filling your mouth, low moans sliding into his mouth making him smile, only making his dick fill out your pussy more. 

"keep going, baby; there you go." watching how you slid up and down on his dick while your head was hanging back and one of your hands on his chest lightly pressing down as you lifted your hips and the other rubbing over your breast lightly grazing over your nipples. the pleasure was so overwhelming that covering your face or suppressing your moans were out of the question; you had no choice but to moan and throw your head back. 

once toji realized just what he had to do to make you not cover up your face or hold in your moans, he would just turn around and put you on top of him and push his hips into you, so that he would get control again while there was no place for you to run or cover your face up. when you were on top, it was easier for his dick to poke your sweet spot back and forth with no breaks, so the pleasure was more overwhelming.

as much as you wanted to freeze up and hide your face, you just couldn't; the overall hold his dick had on you was too much for you to ignore or try to push off. your body knew what you really wanted, what you craved and ached for, and what had your pussy clenching around him to orgasm.

both your body and toji worked together to betray you, but god, did you thank them for this? when you were covering up your face and moaning, you couldn't focus on the pleasure. you were so worried about covering up everything that you didn't have time to submerge yourself in the pleasure toji was giving you, and he couldn't have that.

once he started having you on top of him, the habit of covering yourself up along with your moans faded away. he could flip you in all kinds of positions and have you begging for more. toji made sure he saw your every expression when he was inside of you.

#yall digging the new divider #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #x reader #zenin toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji smut #toji x you #fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji zenin #jjk fushiguro #fushiguro toji x reader #zenintoji

[opencommunion]

"Like all foreigners, the Jewish settlers sailed first to Alexandria, took a ferry to Jaffa, and were taken ashore by small boats. This mundane arrival at the shore appears in the settlers’ statements as aggressive and alien treatment: ‘Aravim Hetikifu Ottanu’ – ‘the Arabs assaulted us’ – is the phrase used to describe the simple act of Palestinian boys helping settlers to small boats on the way to Jaffa; they shouted because the waves were high and asked for baksheesh [tips] because this was how they managed to live. But in the settlers’ narrative they were assailants. Noise, presumably a normal feature of life in the Jewish townships of Eastern Europe, becomes menacing when produced by Palestinian women wailing in the traditional salute of joy to the sailors returning safely home. For the settlers this was the behaviour of savages, ‘with fiery eyes and a strange garroted language.’ Whether the topic is their language, their dress or their animals, reports back to Europe concerning the Palestinians were all about unpleasantness and weirdness. ... Again and again, Zionist settlers behaved as a people who had been insulted – either objectively in the form of a physical attack, but more often simply by the very presence of Palestinians in Palestine. ... The Zionist settlers instituted retaliation for ‘theft’, which was how they characterised the rural tradition of cultivating state land, a practice that was legal under Ottoman law. Picking fruit from roadside orchards became an act of robbery only after Zionism took over the land. The words shoded (robber) and rozeach (murderer) were flung about with ease when Palestinians involved in such acts were described. After 1948 these terms would be replaced with ‘terrorist’ and ‘saboteur’. ... Cleansing the land of its farmers and tenants was done at first through meeting in the Zionist madafa and then by force of eviction in Mandatory times. The ‘good’ Palestinians were those who came to the madafa and allowed themselves to be evicted. Those who refused were branded robbers and murderers. Even Palestinians with whom the settlers sometimes shared ownership of horses or long hours of guard duty were transformed into villains once they refused eviction. Later on, wherever Israelis would control the lives of Palestinians, such a refusal to collaborate would be the ultimate proof for Palestinian choice of the terrorist option as a way of life. ... Following the 1967 war ... both Israeli academics and Israeli media commonly used the term ‘terrorism’ when referring to any kind of Palestinian political, social and cultural activity. ‘Palestinian terrorism’ was depicted as having been present from the very beginning of the Zionist project in Palestine and still being there when academic research into it began in earnest. This characterisation was so comprehensive and airtight that it assigned almost every chapter in Palestinian history to the domain of ‘terrorism’ and absolved hardly any of the organisations and personalities that made up the Palestinian national movement from the accusation of being terrorists."

Ilan Pappé, The Idea of Israel: A History of Power and Knowledge (2014)

#palestine #colonialism #zionism #history #library

[adanfore]

Something about virgin Choso fucks me up in the head oh my god.

He acts tough. Every time he’s around you, talking to Yuuji, his brothers, he puts on a show as though nothing in the world matters, he’s always calm, layed back. Talking to him, you always got so nervous when he stared you down every time without a care in the world it seems, to you it looked like talking to anyone for him was easy as a breeze of wind, you kind of wished you were like that, like Choso. That also was half of why you were attracted to the man. The other half, well, self explanatory: he was great with his brothers, he was attractive in his own damn way which made your knees weak every time you saw him.

You hadn’t expected him to be a virgin, and a whiney one at that. When you had walked past the bathroom to the kitchen, you heard him in

the bathroom, he was masturbating.. Were you eavesdropping? Yes, but you couldn’t hold yourself from listening in to his beautiful cries of pleasure, whimpering, pleading for some reason, those pretty moans and whines turned you on more than you imagined. Well, the worst part came when you had not realized he was done already, you only realized when he opened the door and stood there, shocked, embarrassement flood over you and you just ran back to the guest bedroom.

If it only wasn’t for you getting carried away, this wouldn’t be happening right now, you and Choso sitting on the sofa, akwardly waiting for Yuuji to come back from the kitchen so the atmosphere turns nice again. You can feel Choso sneaking glances at you, fidgeting with the black silver rings on his fingers. Not wanting to have this continue for any longer, you decided you’d speak up.

“Listen, I’m sorry for yesterday, I just.. uh..”

You couldnt find a explanation for yourself.

“N-No, It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have.. Uhm, I shouldn’t have done it in the bathroom.”

“But I was eavesdropping on you, I need to apologize for that. I just couldn’t help but get carried away from… Shock!”

And as Choso was about to answer, Yuuji suddenly came into the room, having only heard muffles of your conversation.

“Yo, what’re you guys talking about?”

With a panic, you blurt whatever comes to mind.

“ Oh! I was just telling Choso that I’ll be helping him later.”

“Helping him with what?”

“Just washing the dishes, just to repay him for yesterday, I hit him after he scared me in the dark at night!

Yuuji seems content with that answer, and sits between you two. You couldn’t help but notice how Choso looked at you after you said you’ll help him later, eyes a little wide, a deep red spreading on his cheeks. He didn’t know whether to take it seriously or not, well, you were just making an excuse, but still, a gesture like that would blow his mind completely.

After the movie marathon, you both HAD to go wash the dishes, to play some truth into your silly excuse you gave to Yuuji, it was akward, very akward washing dishes with him. But you got to see Choso, the real him, how he was all fidgety, getting clumsy and blushing as hard as a cherry.

“Was it true..? What you said earlier?”

“What are you talking about, Choso?”

“H-How you said you’d help me later..”

“I am helping you thoug- Oh, you mean that?”

You said as the realization hit you, he was hard, and it was all because of your choice of words.

“I-I’m sorry, I am just gonna go, real sorry for thi-“

“N-No, Choso! I- I can help you, if you want me to?”

The sigh Choso gave out was huge.

“Please…”

That was all you needed to hear, proceeding to drag him up to his room at the back of the hall, the location of his room, being secluded and far away from any other room made you so grateful.

You sat him on the edge of his bed, leaning down to massage his thighs.

“How do you want me to help you, Choso?”

Hearing his name come out of your pretty lips always made him want to hold back smashing his face into yours, but now, he was just confused, he didn’t know what would be the most ‘appropriate’ thing to ask. All he wanted now, was to ruin you, to make you his, kiss you, feel and touch you everywhere he had ever dreamed of.

“I.. I don’t know, just- just touch me, do whatever, please..”

When you heard that, you immediately knew that he was a virgin, to your shock infact. Not wanting to torture this poor man any longer, you stopped massaging his thighs for a moment and told him to slide his sweatpants down, all the while looking at the wet spot of precum left on them.

You looked at his length for a second, before actually bringing your hand up to it, to rub and feel it to all of its size, he was huge, possibly the biggest you’ve ever had in a partner. It blew your mind and you wondered how it would feel inside you, how it would fill all of your insides, but, right now it was all about Choso’s pleasure which needed to be fixed.

The pool of precum doubled in size as you continued rubbing it, deciding to finally free it from his boxers, Choso moaned when it sprang up and hit his stomach. That made you look up at him, needing to hear more of his sounds, he looked back at you with a pleading look on his face which just said “please, touch me already”

You grabbed his length with your hand and started stroking it, slowly at first, picking up speed with some time. The moans, whines and whimpers this man put out were sent straight to your core.

“Please, Please, please, go faster, please, I’m gonna cum, Y/N, please!”

That motivated you to pick up speed, also to tighten your grip on his length to up the pleasure for him. His moans were getting out of control until you looked up at him with a strict look, telling him to be quiet. With that sense of dominance, he came all over, all over your hand, his stomach and thighs. His chest heaving, some small moans still coming out as he came down from his high.

You brought your hand up to your mouth, licking your hand and tasting Him before you began to walk out of his room, off to finish yourself off.

“W-Wait, can’t I make you feel good now?”

“I did this as an apology, Choso. Some other time, maybe.”

And with a wink and a smirk to him, you walked off to your room with an almost unbarable heat between your legs, it also had to be fixed.

NOT PROOFREAD ITS FUCKING 5 AM I WANNA GO SLEEP, ILL DO IT SOME OTHER TIME

#smut #jujutsu kaisen #choso fanfic #choso fluff #choso smut #choso x f!reader #choso x fem!reader #choso x female reader #choso x reader #choso x you #chosoxreader #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso my beloved #choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x y/n

[gutsby]

Love Tap

Pairing: Dad!Joel x Reader

Summary: Old habits die hard with your husband—touching you at inappropriate times is one of them.

Warnings: 18+. Joel Miller is a MUNCH Oral (f!receiving). Unprotected p-in-v (quickie). Slice of life, domestic-style and Joel calls you ‘Mama’ a whole lot. One playful bite.

Word count: 2.4k

Note: ‘You better back the fuck up before you get smacked the fuck up’ is a line from 2Pac’s song, ‘Hit ‘Em Up.’

Joel Miller was a wonderful father.

Occasionally, he forgot how to act like one.

He had a tendency to get a little careless. Sloppy.

Letting the dignified, ever-respectful façade slip every now and again and smacking your ass when you walked past. Copping a feel when you had to squeeze by him in the kitchen. Best of all, pinching your cheek through your skirt while you were cradling the baby—his baby—and leaving you no choice but to shoot him a quick back-the-fuck-up-before-you-get-smacked-the-fuck-up look and a covert middle finger to remind him that he wasn’t supposed to be slapping your butt in front of the kids.

It was just bad practice to engage in those dumb, flirty antics, particularly when your four-year-old son had made it his mission in life to imitate everything dad did.

But again, Joel would sometimes forget that.

On a morning when he’d woken up a little too early with an erection that was a tad too stubborn to ignore, he got especially forgetful. He found himself plastered to your backside at the edge of the bathroom counter with a grin, knowing damn well you only had twenty-five minutes to get the family dressed, fed, and on the road.

“Joel, you are so—”

“Quick. I’ll be quick.”

His eyes suddenly pleading with yours in the mirror. You just might’ve had the willpower to turn his honeyed gaze away were it not for the lips that followed it. Tracing the shell of your ear and behind it, down your neck, leaving trails of soft kisses down the skin until he reached the collarbone, your sweet spot, and licked it—the bastard.

“Five. Minutes.” Your words were equal parts invitation and warning as you shimmied your PJs over your butt.

“You know I’ll have ya finished in two, sweet pea,” Joel teased—but deep down, you knew he wasn’t kidding.

Both of you had cum and were done in a record-breaking four and a half minutes, swapping pyjamas for normal clothes in less than half the time and stepping back out of the bathroom with your hair only marginally tousled.

By now you had the ‘Pre-K starts in thirty’ types of quickies down pat. You were proud. You glanced over your shoulder to see a similar glint in Joel’s eye, and as you started out the bedroom door, you felt a tap on your ass—or, with the sheer breadth of your husband’s hand, more like a WHACK, followed by the sound of a stifled laugh.

“Can Daddy get some more’a that later?” he quipped.

“More’a what?”

Aw, hell.

Your sweet, forever nosy mini-Joel was standing directly in front of you with two pinched brows and a mostly eaten dino nugget clenched tight in his tiny fist.

You opened your mouth to conjure up some half-assed excuse for the spank your son just saw, but then your husband was scooping the kid up in his arms and toting him straight down the hallway, and you heard, faintly:

“Whatcha gettin’ from Mama later?”

“None of your beeswax, bubs.”

Joel got his second helping around lunchtime.

He’d been in between calls with what felt like an endless stream of subcontractors, suppliers, architects, and project managers when he swung by the house. You were in the midst of baking cardamom buns when he blew through the kitchen like an EF5 tornado and decided he’d be feasting on something else entirely.

“Joel, my buns,” you whined as soon as he’d carried you up the stairs and tossed you onto the bed, eager as ever.

“Fuck your buns.”

“You already fucked ‘em this morning—can you relax?”

Your husband already had your pants tugged halfway down your legs. You let him, then helped him kick the fabric the rest of the way off when it got to your ankles.

“You’re a fuckin’ maniac, Miller, y’know that?”

Something in the way he smirked as he sank his face between your bare thighs told you he already knew that. You would’ve liked to try and scold him again—give him a little more grief for the baked treats that would surely be burnt to a crisp by the time he was done—but then you felt his tongue lick a stripe up your slit, and you refrained.

Even if you’d wanted to, you scarcely would’ve been able to form a single word apart from, ‘Fu-cking hell, Joel’ and ‘Right there, right thereohfuuuuuuckfuckfuck.’

That was just fine by your husband.

In fact, he seemed perfectly content to lap at your slick, glistening folds while you moaned and cursed his name; it made him proud. Appreciative. Maybe even a tad too smug for his own good, if he were being honest, because the way you fisted his hair and rutted your hips against his face made you act a little more like him. A touch more reckless, sloppy, and desperate than your daily obligations as parents would seem to allow. A bit less proper and refined and a lot more slutty—all for him.

Joel teased your clit with a few soft touches from the tip of his tongue, and you almost tore the sheets in two.

“That feel good, Mama?” he hummed.

“F-Fingers, fuck, Joel— fingers,” you begged.

Still using his tongue, Joel drew the shape of a lemniscate extra slow just to spite you. You whined and bucked your hips in protest, but the man was undeterred—he knew exactly what he was doing. The only way he could be tempted to use his fingers now would be to spread your lips apart and lick you more, which he did.

Joel licked and sucked and drove you up the fucking wall with those figure eights until you nearly couldn’t take it. In one hasty, desperate move, you tilted your hips and tried to slip a finger past Joel’s mouth, into your cunt.

He bit that finger. You yelped.

“JOEL!”

It wasn’t that the bite actually hurt—his teeth barely grazed skin—but rather the way he refused to speed up. Gauging your wants and your needs with expert precision, he massaged the hood of your clit with his tongue and took care to plant suckling kisses as he did. You moaned and squeezed the bedspread, relishing the vulgar sounds of his mouth and the need he was building inside you. You turned your head to the side and whined into the pillow, knowing from the depths of your soul you needed release, but Joel just wouldn’t oblige you…yet.

When he grinned against your wet, warm, and slippery folds, his mouth might as well have joined in and said, ‘Keep going—you’ll cum on my tongue when I say so.’

Instead, Joel opted to say ‘Mama’ again, softly.

Mama.

He always called you that when he took you extra slow. Sometimes when he took you quick, too. Like a reminder to you both that you were, in fact, the mother of his children, and if the man had had it his way he’d have given you fifty more by now, daycare bills be damned.

He was generous like that. Always giving, giving, giving.

Just not when it came to doling out orgasms sometimes.

“I have a divorce lawyer on speed dial, just so you know,” you hissed through gritted teeth, head falling back when Joel’s tongue sank forward—inside you, then, “FUCK!”

“Mhmmm,” he hummed before retracting once more. Licking the soft, fleshy rim and nearly eliciting a scream.

Joel traced a circle with his tongue. He savored the taste. While you were whining and grinding your hips against the wet spot underneath you—a puddle that would only grow larger the longer he went on—your husband was devouring you, kissing your thighs every now and then.

“Well, if we split, my tongue goes too,” Joel said. Smug.

“Texas is a community property state,” you murmured, “I taught you how to eat pussy so your mouth is a marital asset.”

Silently, Joel wondered how that argument might hold up in court, grinned, then continued licking your cunt. You squeezed his head with your thighs, dug the balls of your feet in the sheets, and let out a lewd, pornographic scream that could’ve woken half the street. Luckily, your neighbors were probably all at work, your bedroom walls insulated just well enough to mask the noise, and Joel’s resolve crumbling slowly as he kissed between your legs.

One wanton, shameless, ‘I’m gonna cum, Joel, please’ was like music to his ears. He couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten with a wife and mother as sweet as you, so upright and polite in your day-to-day life and then a hot, trembling mess beneath his tongue when he needed you like this the most. Surely he couldn’t treat you so mean.

Joel wedged two thick fingers in your slick, dripping heat and beckoned you to him as kindly as he possibly could. Rubbing the pads of both digits, callused as they were, against the spongy insides of your core and flicking them forward—‘C’mere, Mama, Daddy’s right here, go on’— so of course, you had no other logical choice but to cum.

It was all habit by now. A dazzling, sumptuous routine.

And Joel Miller was certain he’d never tire of seeing it.

Your spine arched off the mattress an inch or two, toes curling at the feeling, and while the sensation spanned over your body, your husband was the first to see it, sense it on his lips and tongue and fingers just as well. He squeezed your hip, told you how fucking pretty you looked when you came for him, then patiently waited out the spasms and cries and fingers lacing through his soft, dark locks like he was your last remaining tether to earth.

Then he kissed the inside of your thighs and smiled.

“All better, honey?” he hummed.

“Yeah,” you breathed back.

“Still want a divorce?”

A smirk and a response of ‘Not until you knock me up at least one more time’ was hovering somewhere over your tongue when you felt the bed shake. Buzzing. Vibrating?

Joel sat up between your legs and yanked something out from under his ass. He peered down at the thing—staring into a screen—and cocked a brow as he looked back up.

“Someone’s been naughty,” he said simply. Grinning.

He lobbed the phone your way, and you just barely managed to catch it between two trembling hands.

Incoming Call: Francisco C. Morales Elementary

You shot Joel a look and answered it instantly.

Disoriented, disheveled, and slightly foggy from climax, you half-expected to find one of your son’s disgruntled teachers on the other end of the line, reminding you that today was a noon dismissal and everyone was supposed to pick their kids up an hour ago. Your husband was the one who would always keep up with school schedules, so your gaze narrowed at him, butt scooting up the bed while he tried to dive right back between your legs.

“He-llo?”

You smacked a hand away from the front of your blouse.

“Is this Mrs. Miller?” a voice trilled through the phone.

Yes, unfortunately, it was.

You almost had to backhand Joel across the face when he tried to bite the button off your brand new top, teeth ruthless in their pursuit of getting you fully naked now.

“This is she,” you squeaked.

Someone cleared their throat on the other end of the line—as though they knew you had a broad, hulking husband with a cock as hard as sheet metal trying to tear your clothes off while you talked. You stifled a shriek and a giggle when you felt your relentless man move down.

Joel was busy working your blouse from the bottom with that feral mouth of his when the voice sounded again:

“We’d really appreciate it if you and your husband could come see us this afternoon to have a little chat about—”

Your eyes widened. You clutched your phone even tighter and this time, more seriously, shoved Joel away. When he frowned and started to pout, you raised a finger.

“A-About what? Has my— has he done something bad?” Your voice all of a sudden tight, words wavering just enough to snag your husband’s attention too.

“We can explain more when you get here, he’s just…”

‘What the fuck?’ Joel mouthed silently, leaning in.

“What? What’s he done?” You couldn’t help it.

You heard a long sigh across the line, and you knew that wasn’t good. It sounded a lot like the kind of sighs you made whenever your baby made a colossal mess all over the kitchen floor, or your husband slammed a door too loud and woke the kids from their nap, or your son just—

“—keeps slapping his classmates on the butt.”

“Wait, what?”

You blinked. Joel coughed. Together, half-naked on the bed, you sat up a little straighter and leaned even closer into the phone, hearts starting to thud in your chests.

“Your son was just…spanking other kids and asking if he could ‘get some more’a that later,’ and when his teacher asked him where he’d learned to do a thing like that—”

You turned. Joel paled. Your gaze could’ve seared a hole through the front of his skull if you stared any harder, and just as your son’s principal continued talking, Joel raised his hands in surrender, already trying to apologize.

“Honey—”

“—and he told her he saw your husband do it at home—”

You didn’t need to hear another word. You were already fishing for your pants, yanking them back up your legs and brushing aside your husband’s soft, red-faced attempts at consolation, and when you were dressed, you started straight for the door. Already babbling some half-coherent apology to the woman on the phone, dodging Joel’s impossibly large hands and arms and hugs as he tried to pull you back into his chest and tell you he was sorry. You just might’ve let him, and maybe even believed him to be sincere, if you didn’t see the tiniest smirk on his lips as he fought to wrangle you in.

You’d made it to the door and were just about to pivot to give Joel the finger, tell him this was not funny at all, and he was coming with you right now, when both of you halted at the threshold and were obliged to turn again.

You sniffed the air, and your husband made a face.

Was it—

Before you could think, a plume of smoke drifted out through the kitchen door. Your eyes widened, and right as the fire alarm let out its piercing scream, you wailed,

“My buns!”

#C’EST LA PLUS BELLE 🍕 QUE J’AI JAMAIS VU LE FROMAGE EST FRAIS C’EST VRAIMENT MIEUX QUE LE DERNIER FILM DE GÉRARD DEPARDIEU #if anyone knows how to get a song unstuck from their head please lmk LOL #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #the last of us fic #the last of us #tlou